The Bribe
by inkstainedfingers97
Summary: TM Creative Fest Prompt #115: When Jane refuses again to attend a mandatory seminar in the CBI and threatens to wreak havoc if he's forced to go, Lisbon resorts to bribery in a last-ditch attempt to get him to behave. It works surprisingly well once she finds the right bribe.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Bribe

Spoilers: Goes AU somewhere mid season three.

Disclaimer: This is for fun and no money

Rating: T

TM Creative Fest Prompt #115:When Jane refuses again to attend a mandatory seminar in the CBI and threatens to wreak havoc if he's forced to go, Lisbon resorts to bribery in a last-ditch attempt to get him to behave. It works surprisingly well once she finds the right bribe.

A/N: I must credit Starry19 and her story "Credit Cards and Concussions" with giving me the unshakeable head canon that Lisbon possesses a Victoria Secret credit card. This head canon may or may not have followed me into more than one ongoing story...

xxx

"Lisbon," Hightower said crisply when the budget meeting concluded. "A word."

Lisbon paused halfway out the door, curiosity and dread claiming her in equal parts. What had Jane done now? She schooled her features into a neutral expression. "Ma'am?"

"My office," Hightower said, picking up her files and walking to meet her at the door. She inclined her head to indicate Lisbon should precede her down the hall.

When they reached Hightower's office, Hightower took a seat at her desk. Lisbon stood at attention before the desk, posture militarily erect.

Hightower gestured impatiently. "Have a seat."

That bad, huh. Lisbon hid her cringe and sat down in the guest chair. "What's this about, ma'am?"

Hightower surveyed her over the top over her desk. "You know we have that rules of evidence seminar next week."

Lisbon tilted her head, surprised by the lead in. "Yes, ma'am. I've been receiving the email reminders." It would have been hard to forget it—the communications office had been blasting the whole department with reminders for the past month.

"And you're aware attendance is mandatory," Hightower stated.

"Yes," Lisbon said, wondering where she was going with this. "I have it blocked off on my calendar."

"Your team members are expected to attend as well," Hightower said.

"Of course," Lisbon said, straightening. "I've already informed the agents on my team their presence is required."

" _All_ team members," Hightower emphasized. She looked at Lisbon meaningfully. "Including consultants."

"Ma'am, no," Lisbon said, horrified. "Jane isn't an agent—surely he doesn't need to attend."

"I don't like it any more than you do," Hightower said grimly. "God knows I'm aware of the kind of mayhem Patrick can cause when he's forced to do something he doesn't want to do."

"Exactly," Lisbon said gratefully. "So you agree he should be excused so he won't set something on fire or set loose some kind of wild animal in the bullpen or spread rumors that someone's planning to unleash a biological weapon at the seminar and cause widespread panic—"

Hightower shook her head. "It's out of my hands. The AG has informed me that attendance is mandatory for all staff. The governor's office is sending over monitors to track compliance."

"But, ma'am," Lisbon said desperately. "The widespread panic—the potential need to evacuate the building—"

"None of that will come to pass, Teresa. You know why?"

"Why?" Lisbon said with dread.

Hightower fixed her steely gaze on Lisbon. "Because you are going to personally make sure that Jane attends this seminar."

"I am?" Lisbon said faintly.

"Not only that," Hightower continued. "But you are also going to make sure he actually behaves himself for once in his life."

"Ma'am," Lisbon said, shaking her head. "After working with him eight years, I managed to convince Jane to work with us in the Red John takedown instead of going off on his own and getting himself arrested or killed. But persuading him to willingly participate in a bureaucratic process without causing critical damage to the organization? You might be asking the impossible."

"I know it won't be easy," Hightower acknowledged. "But I do have something to offer you if you can secure his cooperation."

"What's that?" Lisbon said, doubtful. She couldn't think of anything she wanted badly enough to undergo the torture that would be involved in trying to force Jane to go to this seminar.

Hightower leaned back in her chair. "That training you've been pushing for Van Pelt. The white hat course in L.A. You get Jane to attend the seminar and not cause any international incidents, I'll secure the funding for her to attend the training."

"Really?" Lisbon said, surprised. She'd been lobbying for three months to get Van Pelt sent on this training and kept being stonewalled by the budget office.

"You have my word," Hightower said.

Lisbon considered. She knew she was getting the worse end of the deal by far. But Van Pelt deserved the opportunity and she knew the skills she gained at the training would be invaluable to the team. "All right," she said at last. "I'll do what I can."

"Do whatever it takes," Hightower advised. "I have the utmost confidence in your abilities, Teresa. Don't let me down."

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbon said, straightening her spine.

Xxx

She went back to her office, where she found Jane sprawled on her couch. She gazed at him affectionately, so happy and grateful that he was still here. After Rigsby had shot and killed Red John, she'd been so afraid that Jane would take off and disappear. That he would run away to a beach somewhere and she would never hear from him again. But he hadn't disappeared. He'd stayed.

He appeared to be coping surprisingly well with the loss of his revenge. He'd sold the house in Malibu, gotten an apartment, and seemed content to continue to solve crimes with the CBI. Three weeks ago, he'd stopped wearing his wedding ring. Lisbon didn't know what to make of this, or of the strange swooping sensation in her belly whenever her gaze happened to land on Jane's bare ring finger. She did everything she could not to think about it, but somehow, the image of that bare finger kept intruding into her thoughts when she tried to fall asleep at night.

"What do you need, Lisbon?" Jane asked lazily from the couch without bothering to open his eyes.

"What makes you think I need something?" Lisbon said, immediately defensive. Surely he couldn't have read her thoughts without even looking at her. Right?

"You're standing in the doorway staring at me instead of going over to your desk to start working on that dreadful pile of paperwork," Jane pointed out.

"I'm not staring at you," she protested.

He smiled without opening his eyes. "Liar."

He kept talking, his eyes still closed. "The fact that you haven't come over and kicked the couch implies it's something you're reluctant to ask me, so it isn't case related. You wouldn't be shy about interrupting my nap and demanding whatever you wanted from me if it had something to do with a case."

Jerk. She _should_ have kicked the couch.

Lisbon sighed, annoyed by the accuracy of his analysis. Deciding she might as well get this over with, she took one of the chairs from the table by the door and dragged it over to the couch so she could sit down.

Jane opened his eyes, regarding her with half-lidded eyes as she sat down opposite him and fixed him with a glare. "Oh, my," he said, amused. "This must be serious indeed."

"Would you stop being a pain in the ass for once?" Lisbon said, exasperated. "You're right, okay? I do need to talk to you about something."

"I'm all ears," he said, intrigued. "You must be really worried about it, if you're pulling up a chair instead of telling me to shove over or just ordering me about from on high the way you usually do."

"'Ordering you about from on high' makes it sound like you actually listen to me," Lisbon said, immediately drawn into his nonsense despite her resolve to stick to the point and get the whole thing over with. "Shouting into the void is more like it."

"Okay, now you're just stalling," Jane said. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath. "You know that seminar that's coming up? The one about rules of evidence?"

"Yes."

"It's on Tuesday afternoon."

"I know. It's supposed to be lovely weather that day. The perfect day for me to amuse myself in the park in the afternoon while the rest of you are off being brainwashed like good little CBI drones," Jane said, sounding pleased at the prospect.

"Hightower says you have to come, too."

Jane laughed. "Right. I'm sure that would make Madeleine's day."

"I'm serious. She says you have to go."

He looked at her intently. "Is this something Bertram is in charge of? Is she trying to piss him off and to use me as her instrument of petty revenge? Because I'm always happy to ruin Bertram's day, but I can think of about fifteen more entertaining ways to do it off the top of my head."

"This has nothing to do with Bertram," Lisbon said, exasperated. "It's a mandate from the governor's office. Apparently they're sending monitors to make sure we reach one hundred percent compliance."

"So it's a purely bureaucratic exercise," Jane interpreted. "No, thank you. I'll sit this one out."

"It's not a bureaucratic exercise," Lisbon said. "They're going to provide training on rules of evidence, which you could definitely benefit from. Do I need to remind you of the time that hit man almost got away with murder because you broke into his apartment, drank his tea, and left your fingerprints all over the place?"

He waved this off. "Experience is a far better teacher than any formalized instruction could be, Lisbon. I already learned that lesson. If I'm going to break into someone's house and drink their tea, I should wear gloves and clean up after myself. Simple. No need to spend eight hours listening to some government hack drone on about the subject ad nauseum."

She pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off an impending headache. "Jane, this is a required training for all CBI employees. Everyone else has to go. Why do you always think you're above this sort of thing? We do give you a paycheck, you know."

"I don't think I'm above it," Jane corrected. "I'm to the side of it. Cop-adjacent, remember? This sort of thing is for you and the other agents to worry about, not me."

"Are you kidding me? You're the one person in the whole bureau who probably needs this training the most. You routinely compromise evidence at crime scenes, steal evidence from the evidence room almost as often—the DA's office almost has to throw out a case at least once a quarter because of some ridiculous thing you've done that somehow makes the evidence inadmissible—"

"Yeah, but they don't throw them out, do they?" Jane said. "Because ninety-nine percent of the time we get a confession and they don't even need the evidence after all. As for the rest, you and the rest of the team do a fine job of stopping me from destroying anything really important."

She rolled her eyes. "That's so comforting."

"You should be comforted. I'm far more likely to listen to you than to anyone else."

"Right. Because it's completely unreasonable that you would actually go into any sort of structured learning environment with an open mind and actually try to learn something," Lisbon said sarcastically.

"Corporate brainwashing, Lisbon," he said dismissively. "Why would I voluntarily subject myself to that?"

"God, why are you always so damn difficult about every little thing?" she said, frustrated.

"I'm drawing a line in the sand, Lisbon," he said loftily. "Standing up for the little guy by taking a stand against the man."

"By being a lazy, entitled bastard who thinks he's God's gift to crime-solving and doesn't have to follow the same rules as everybody else," Lisbon fired back.

"That, too," Jane agreed.

She changed tacks. "Listen, Jane. Hightower expects you to attend this seminar and she made it clear that she's going to hold me accountable if you don't cooperate. So can you please just be reasonable about this and agree to come to the training?"

"Hightower threatened you?" Jane propped himself up on his elbows, apparently gearing up for action. "Why didn't you say so before? I'll figure out some dirt we can use against her as leverage and make this whole issue about the training disappear."

"She didn't threaten me," Lisbon said, exasperated. "She quite reasonably expects that I can manage my own team and get them to perform the basic duties expected of them, like _attending mandatory trainings_. You really want to make me look bad in front of the brass by refusing to obey the simplest order?"

He sank back onto the couch. "Nice try, Lisbon. But I think I've made my ways known among the players in this town well enough that all the people with real power know that I'm completely unmanageable. They know the only hope they have of keeping me remotely in line is through you, because you're the only person whose opinion I care about."

"If you care so much about my opinion, why won't you just agree to go to the damn training so we don't have to waste more time arguing about it?" she snapped.

"Because me going to the training isn't going to negatively influence your opinion about me," Jane pointed out. "In fact, you might actually lose respect for me if I suddenly rolled over and started toeing the line about stupid bureaucratic nonsense. You secretly like the fact that I reject authority. Don't try to deny it."

"Oh, my God. You are the most infuriating, narcissistic—" she drew in two deep breaths, summoning calm. "Okay. Forget Hightower. Forget my opinion. Forget being a reasonable human being with normal attitudes towards minimum job requirements. Let's get down to brass tacks. What is it going to take to get you to show your face at this thing and actually behave for once in your life?"

Jane gave her a long look, considering. "This is really important to you?"

"Yes. As a team leader, I'd like to be able to assure the higher ups that I actually have some sway with my team members," Lisbon said dryly. "Besides, Hightower promised if I convinced you to go, she'd get me the funding for that computer training Van Pelt wants to go to."

"Ah, that's why you're so determined," Jane said, light dawning. "Well, there's no need for this training nonsense to come into the matter. I'll figure out a way to get Bertram to cough up the money, and then you won't have to worry about the stupid seminar."

She closed her eyes. "Please, Jane. What's it going to take?"

He stared at her, his eyes flicking over her face. She opened her eyes and looked steadily back. "A bribe," he said finally.

Lisbon blinked. Of all Jane's usual methods for getting his way, bribery was not one she'd ever witnessed him using before. He usually went for elaborate manipulations. It was actually unusually straightforward, for Jane. "What kind of bribe?" she asked suspiciously.

He grinned, that sinful smile that never boded well for her. "One that only you can pay, my dear."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Let's establish our baseline before we get into specifics. Are you open to the concept of bribery?"

Lisbon considered this. All in all, it sounded a lot easier than anything else that had occurred to her. "Maybe," she said cautiously. "Why is it something that only I can pay? What do you want?"

He looked meaningfully down the front of her blouse. Lisbon looked down at herself reflexively, wondering if she'd dropped part of her lunch on her shirt, but she didn't see any tell-tale drops of mustard or anything. "What?" she said self-consciously.

"I want you to wear your pink lace bra to the seminar," Jane announced.

Lisbon turned purple. "My—what—how the hell— _so_ inappropriate—"

"Yes, I know, it's very politically incorrect of me," Jane acknowledged. "But you know I don't like to be bound by social convention, and that's the only thing I really want."

Lisbon spluttered. "But you—how do you even know I have a, a—"

"How do I know you have a pink lace bra in the first place?" Jane supplied helpfully. "Please, Lisbon. Give me some credit. You really think I haven't been paying attention?"

"To my _underwear_?" Her voice had gone alarmingly shrill.

Jane continued blithely on. "I considered the green silk or the sheer red one—which, by the way, was a _very_ close runner up, but the pink lace is my favorite."

"The green—" Lisbon shot to her feet. "What the _hell_ , Jane?"

"You really thought I didn't know about that Victoria Secret credit card?" Jane said, as though this were a perfectly normal question to ask a colleague.

Her face flamed. She pointed to the door. "Out. Now."

"Aw, Lisbon, there's no need for that," Jane said, alarmed by the look in her eye. "We're just having a simple negotiation. I'm sure we can work out a mutually agreeable arrangement if we stick with it and hash out a few more of the particulars."

"I'll give you a mutually agreeable arrangement, you complete and utter _ass._ " She hauled him off the couch, then frog-marched him over to the door.

"Ow! There's no need for such violence, woman," Jane complained as she hustled him over to the door with his arm twisted painfully behind his back. "You asked what I wanted and I answered. Where's the crime in that?"

"If you ever mention my underwear in this office again, I'll shove your teakettle so far up your ass, you'll be whistling for a week," Lisbon threatened. With that, she thrust the door open and shoved him bodily through it.

Jane stumbled in response to the unexpected force propelling him through the door and found himself sprawled on his ass in the hallway leading to the bullpen.

Cho, passing by, glanced at Jane, then up at Lisbon. "What'd he do?"

Lisbon only huffed and slammed the door closed.

Cho looked down at Jane, still on the floor, rubbing several bruised portions of his anatomy. "That bad, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! Your words of kindness are so appreciated. One more chapter after this one- hope to get it up sometime before the end of the week.

xxx

Jane steered clear of Lisbon's office the rest of that day. At least, while she was in it. She thought this demonstrated unusually wise judgment, for Jane. But she later discovered he hadn't steered clear completely, because when she opened her desk drawer to grab her keys at the end of the day, a paper frog jumped out at her. She might have thought this was an apology, except for one thing. The frog was folded from a pale pink sheet of paper almost the exact shade of the infamous undergarment in question. She flushed and slammed the drawer closed.

She drove home, puzzling over Jane's inexplicable behavior. What the hell was he thinking? He had to have been able to predict her reaction. Was he just deliberately trying to piss her off? Was this some kind of joke? She clenched her jaw and glared at the road. Bastard.

But why _this?_ Why now? Eight years of platonic friendship and then bam! Suddenly Jane was interested in her underwear? True, Red John was out of the picture now, but that had happened four months ago. If Jane was interested in pursuing something more than friendship, why the hell hadn't he just asked? Or at least tricked her into going on a date or something.

He had to be messing with her. That was it. He was bored and wanted to rile her up for his own amusement, and he knew this would be a sure fire way to get the job done.

But then—what was that bit about the green and red bras? Like he'd been making a study of what she wore under her clothes. She tried to remember the last time she'd worn the red one, which now had a hole in it. A study that had apparently been going on for quite some time.

She flushed again, remembering Jane's pointed look down the front of her blouse. Had he been sneaking peeks this whole time? Annoyingly, she found herself more flattered than annoyed by this thought. She was a professional, dammit, she chastised herself. A male colleague looking down her blouse was disrespectful and unacceptable under all circumstances. Even if it was Jane, the Adonis of the CBI. Okay, so, admittedly, she had entertained an impure thought or two about the man over the years. She thought about the pull of his trousers over his round little butt when he was running away from an angry suspect. The soft parting of his lips when he slept on his couch in the bullpen.

She shook herself out of the thought. That wasn't the point. The point was, what Jane had said was inappropriate.

Of course, Jane was always inappropriate. But this was inappropriate in a new and different way.

There was no point in obsessing about this, she decided. Who knew why Jane did anything? Guessing at his motives was like jumping headfirst into a swirling vortex of doom. Terrifying and unlikely to yield any result other than the loss of one's sanity.

She thought of his bare ring finger and the look in his eye when he'd looked down her shirt earlier and resisted the urge to bang her head on the steering wheel.

Xxx

She barricaded herself in her office early the next day, hoping to avoid Jane as long as possible, but he thwarted her efforts by strolling in at eight am, carrying a cup of tea and a mug of coffee for her.

"So," he said as he set the coffee down in front of her. He sat down opposite her at the desk, the picture of ease and relaxation. He raised an eyebrow. "Have you considered my offer?"

Lisbon stared straight ahead at a spot above Jane's left shoulder. "No. We're not talking about that."

"No?" he said, amused. "I must be mistaken. I was sure that's what we were doing."

"Well, you were wrong. We're not talking about it."

"Hm. That's too bad," Jane said regretfully. "I was starting to really look forward to that seminar. Pity I won't be attending after all."

"I'm sure everyone will be saddened to hear you can't make it," Lisbon said, giving up and taking a sip of the coffee he'd brought for her. "I decided I'm going to tell Hightower and the governor's people that you're violently ill that day. So you can enjoy your day at the park."

"It's not like you to give up so easily," Jane observed. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"No trick," Lisbon said, taking another sip of her coffee. "I just decided dealing with you wasn't worth the hassle. I'll figure out another way to get the funding for Van Pelt's training."

She watched him over the top of her coffee cup and was pleased to see a flicker of dismay pass over his face. Whatever his game was, he hadn't expected her to withdraw from the field entirely. Now he was disappointed that she refused to engage. She smiled to herself and celebrated this small victory with a particularly satisfying sip of the excellent coffee Jane had brought her.

Jane watched her, calculating his next move. "You know, I was thinking about what you said," he said finally.

She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"You were right. I really ought to keep my mind more open about this sort of structured learning opportunity."

He never changed his mind about things like this. He must have come up with an even more nefarious plot. Her eyes narrowed. "Jane…"

"Maybe I should come to the seminar after all," he said idly. "You said the governor's people will be there? I can introduce myself and thank them properly for all their hard work."

She groaned. "Jane, no."

"What?" he said with perfect innocence. "Inter-agency cooperation, Lisbon. Isn't that something you management types love to see in action?"

"I know what you're thinking," she said darkly.

He grinned. "What am I thinking?"

"You're thinking that if I won't give in and bargain with you, you can blackmail me into getting your way by threatening to come to the seminar and wreak havoc."

"That's true," he agreed. "I am thinking that. But I know your pride won't allow you to give in to blackmail immediately. You feel you need to make a token effort of resistance before you inevitably cave in for the sake of that precious 'inter-agency cooperation.' So I will temporarily withdraw from the field and let you ponder your options."

She scowled. "You don't at all feel bad for resorting to blackmail over a completely inappropriate request?"

"Nope," he said cheerfully. He grinned again. "Especially not when the results are so enticing."

Lisbon turned red. "Now what I'm pondering is whether to throw the stapler at you."

He got to his feet hastily. "That's my cue to leave. Enjoy your non-stapler related pondering!" he called as he hastened to the door.

When the door closed behind him, the pink paper frog jumped out at her from behind her computer monitor.

Xxx

Time drained away at an alarming pace over the course of the next few days, and Lisbon still hadn't figured out what to do. Talking about this whole thing with Jane was impossible. Hightower dropped by daily, inquiring about her 'progress' on her little homework assignment. Jane managed to get himself underfoot even more than usual in the intervals immediately preceding and immediately following these visits. Then Bertram called, putting his two cents in on the matter. Which was that he'd heard Hightower had asked Lisbon to handle this and she was confident she would deliver, but he, Bertram, had his doubts, and he expected her to employ any means necessary to make the seminar go smoothly. "We can't afford to piss off these people, Lisbon," he said darkly. "They have the governor's ear. Any kind of disruption or turmoil would cast a negative light on the CBI and could have drastic implications for the budget." Lisbon, intimately familiar with Bertram's constant preoccupation with the budget, gritted her teeth and bore the lecture. Meanwhile, pink paper frogs assailed her from all quarters—from inside the cupboard where she kept her favorite coffee mug, from atop her filing cabinet, from desk drawers. Jane didn't say anything explicitly. He just kept up the bit with the frogs, quiet but relentless. It was an effective strategy. It drove Lisbon to distraction. But his really diabolical move came at the end of the day on Monday, the night before the seminar.

Van Pelt came into her office, beaming. "Boss, I just heard the news!"

Lisbon looked at her blankly. "News?"

"Jane said you got the funding for the white hat training!" Van Pelt gushed. She came around the desk and pulled her startled boss into a hug. "Thank you. I'm going to learn so much. It's going to be so useful to the team, you'll see."

Lisbon reluctantly returned the hug. "There's no doubt in my mind about that." That bastard, she thought viciously as she patted Van Pelt awkwardly on the back. This was low, even for him. How could she tell Van Pelt now that she hadn't gotten the funding after all? He'd know she couldn't bear to disappoint Van Pelt when she was so excited about the whole endeavor.

Jane strolled in a few minutes after Van Pelt left. "Boy, she's in a good mood," he remarked pleasantly. "Nice to see her so happy."

Lisbon glared at him. "Sit down."

"Yes, ma'am." He took a seat on the couch and crossed one leg negligently over the other.

She leaned against the desk, arms folded across her chest. "You've made your point. Now let's talk terms."

Jane feigned ignorance. "Terms?"

"For the seminar tomorrow."

"Oh, that," Jane said, waving this off as though it were of little interest. "You know my terms." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready to seal the deal?"

"Come on, Jane, you know that request was completely inappropriate. It's off the table. There's got to be something else you want," Lisbon said, exasperated. At the light in his eye, she hastily clarified, "Something that in a normal working environment wouldn't get you sued for sexual harassment."

"Nope. I haven't changed my mind. I stand by my original request."

"You said we could negotiate," Lisbon reminded him. "Here's my counter offer: you come to the seminar tomorrow, and I won't tell Rigsby what you said about his karaoke singing after that night at O'Shea's last month."

"That's a terrible counter offer," Jane said. "First of all, it in no way holds equal value to my original demand. Secondly, it's an empty threat. If you were going to tell Rigsby, you would have done it already. And thirdly, you wouldn't tell him anyway, because you don't want to hurt his feelings."

She changed tacks. "Fine, I'll let you drive me in that hunk of blue junk of yours to our next five crime scenes without complaining."

"Ah, you underestimate the charm of your complaining, dear Lisbon," Jane said. "It enriches the experience."

"I'll make you tea for a month," Lisbon said desperately.

He cocked his head to the side. "Now that's an intriguing offer. I think I would enjoy watching you get irritated at me should such a thing come to pass…on the other hand, I'd have to endure your substandard tea for a month, and I'm not completely sure the entertainment value would be worth the tradeoff."

Lisbon scrambled to think of something else Jane might be willing to trade for. "Okay, how about—"

He cut her off. "You're wasting your time. The option to bargain was a limited time offer and the offer expired. Now it's all or nothing."

"What?" she said, outraged. "You can't do that!"

"Of course I can. Now, have you reconsidered? I thought of a really good prank to play on the governor's monitoring people just in case you haven't."

A prank, by Jane's definition of the word, could signify any number of legally actionable offenses, ranging from libel to assault and anything in between. "Jane, why are you doing this?" she said, frustrated. "This is so…not you." Well, the general horse's assery part was. The specific nature of his demand, not so much.

His expression flickered. "Isn't it obvious?" he said, tilting his head as though in genuine consternation.

" _No,"_ she said, thoroughly aggravated.

"It _is_ obvious," Jane insisted. "You're just refusing to see what's right in front of you."

Her cell phone buzzed on her desk. She glanced over at it and grimaced. Bertram again. She hit the button to silence it. She'd deal with him later.

 _What's right in front of you_. Lisbon had a moment of blinding clarity. That was it. She had the solution. It was so simple and obvious. How could she not have seen it before?

"Fine," she said stiffly, hoping he wouldn't read her current line of thought. "Since you insist on being so damn childish about this, I guess you leave me with no choice. I'll wear the damn—" she faltered. "I'll wear the thing," she finished lamely. She straightened her spine and glared at him again. "You will come to the seminar. You will be on time. You will behave. You will not do anything that makes me want to strangle you to death. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly."

Lisbon released a breath. "All right. Then we have a deal."

Jane gave her a look that could melt steel. "I'll look forward to it."

She left for the evening, flushed by the look in his eyes but exultant at her new plan, and more importantly, the opportunity to get one up on Jane for once.

When she got home, she found the pink paper frog in her pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

Final chapter! Thanks again to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy the last chapter.

xxx

Lisbon was in meetings all morning, so she didn't see Jane at all for the first half of the day. When she escaped the last one and went to the fridge to find her lunch, she discovered it was missing. Cursing Rigsby under her breath as the likely culprit, she checked her watch and decided to run down the street to grab a sandwich. Knowing that the seminar was slated to take place in a room ill-suited to hosting practically the entirety of the CBI, she planned to return from lunch by quarter to one and stake out a spot early. Unfortunately, she was delayed on her way back in, first by a logjam at the security line, then as a result of being waylaid in the hall by Rigsby, who had spilled coffee all over his 442 forms and was worried about submitting them on time. After helping him resolve the issue, she hurried over to the conference room with less than a minute before the meeting was scheduled to begin.

A hot, humid wave of body heat struck her full in the face when she entered the room. The place was packed—there were well over a hundred employees in a space designed to hold thirty to forty people at maximum. People had dragged in desk chairs from other offices because there weren't enough seats, but even with the extra chairs, a significant number of people ended up standing in the back or along the sides of the room. The ancient air conditioner sputtered and choked in the face of the daunting task of cooling a room with so many people inside it. A thin trickle of cool air from a handful of vents was all that it could manage.

Rigsby, at her heels, spotted Grace and Cho sitting next to each other and made a beeline to stand at Grace's elbow. Grace turned and waved her over to join them, but though she was sure Rigsby would muscle aside as many bodies as necessary to make space for her to stand next to them, Lisbon waved her off. She had to find Jane so she could keep an eye on him.

She spotted him standing at the back by the far window, barely visible behind the crush of bodies pressed close together in the confined space. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisbon shouldered her way through the crowd so she could take her place by his side in the back row.

Jane's face lit up when he saw her. "Hey, Lisbon," he greeted her with a smile. His smile turned to a smirk. "Nice shirt," he said, amused.

"Thank you," she said demurely, but on the inside, she felt entirely smug. She'd chosen her plainest, most severely cut white blouse for the occasion…and buttoned it up to her throat. She'd honored the deal. She'd put on the infamous pink lace bra, but Jane wouldn't have a chance in hell of seeing any of it. She was quite proud of her downright Jane-like solution to the problem, all in all. Not to mention deeply satisfied by giving him a taste of his own medicine for once.

He gestured to the collar, which would have made any Catholic school nun proud. "Sure you're not going to be too hot in here?"

"I'll be fine," Lisbon said dryly. It was pretty hot in here, but she'd manage. There was no way she was giving Jane the satisfaction of unbuttoning this thing for the sake of a few degrees relief from the heat. "Thanks for your concern."

Platt, a bear of a man from the Organized Crime unit, bumped into her accidentally, causing her to jostle against Jane to avoid being crushed by the bigger man's bulk. "Sorry, Lisbon," Platt gasped, sweating profusely. "Damn hot in here, isn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, Platt," she said, edging closer to Jane to avoid the droplets of sweat dripping from Platt's brow. "You all right?"

"Fine," he wheezed.

"You don't look so good," she said, concerned. "You should go up front, try to get a seat."

"Nah, I'll be all right," he said, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and mopping his forehead.

"Seriously," she said. "You know Cho, right?"

"Sure," he said. "Quiet guy, right?"

"That's the one," Lisbon said. "He's got a seat partway up the aisle on the right there. Go tell him I asked him to let you have his seat. I'm sure he won't mind."

"I dunno," Platt said, embarrassed. "I don't even know the guy."

"I insist," Lisbon said firmly. "I'll square it with him later."

"All right," Platt said gratefully. "Thanks, Lisbon."

She shooed him off, catching Cho's eye and trying to communicate her request silently as Platt lumbered towards him. Cho, sharp as ever, stood before Platt even opened his mouth and offered him his seat. Lisbon gave him a pleased smile, mouthing a silent 'thank you' to her second in command. Cho gave her a brief nod and went to stand next to Rigsby.

"That was good of you," Jane remarked from behind her, his breath whispering across the shell of her ear. Her skin prickled with awareness—she'd forgotten how close he was. Though the departure of Platt's bulk should have left more space where they were standing, somehow all the space had been taken up by other shifting bodies in their vicinity. She and Jane were wedged together in the corner. Her breath came a little faster.

"It was good of Cho, really," she said, her pulse beating rapidly in her throat. God, it really was hot in here. She looked around, belatedly realizing that the leaders of the seminar were nowhere in sight. "What the hell is the hold up? They were supposed to start five minutes ago."

"Probably got held up at security," Jane said idly. "The line took forever, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Lisbon said distractedly. Jane smelled ridiculously good. And she could feel his body heat emanating from him, which should have been a huge turn off since it was so damn hot in here, but instead, he felt pleasantly warm. She blinked, trying to get her mind off the subject of Jane's many attractive physical qualities. Like she didn't have enough reminders of those normally without being practically pressed up against the man in an overcrowded room.

"Here, I saved you a spot under the air conditioner." Jane took her by the shoulders and maneuvered her so she was standing half in front of him.

Lisbon closed her eyes and tilted her face up towards the weak puff of cool air wafting towards her, hoping it would cool her heated cheeks. Jane was still standing entirely too close.

The leaders of the seminar arrived then, looking frazzled and apologizing profusely. They hastened to assure the group of agents that they would get started right away.

"There," Jane murmured into her ear. "Isn't that better?"

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to their position beneath the vent. "Yeah," she managed, the hairs on the back of her neck still prickling with their awareness of his proximity. "Much better."

The seminar began. Five minutes later, the air conditioner shuddered to a grinding halt.

Xxx

The first hour wasn't so bad. Jane, true to his word, hadn't committed a single horribly disruptive act. Without the air conditioner going, the room quickly shifted from uncomfortably warm to sweltering, but Lisbon was so relieved Jane hadn't staged an insurrection by this point, she was willing to deal with the heat. If only she could undo one of these damn buttons, get a little cool air on her neck—

No, she reminded herself. She couldn't give Jane the satisfaction. She straightened her spine and ignored the grumblings of her fellow agents as they muttered to each other about the heat and how the CBI should have invested in bigger meeting spaces if they wanted to have meetings this big, because whoever heard of a half day seminar that had standing room only? The dark grumblings were punctuated by plaintive worries about so and so's bad back, and so and so's bum knee, and really, this whole situation was ridiculous. How was anyone supposed to learn anything standing for hours in a freaking sauna?

Lisbon's resolve held strong until hour two. At that point, a shaft of hot sunlight beamed into the room and hit Lisbon right on the side of her dark head, making her even hotter. The windows were east facing, and it was two o clock in the afternoon, so she couldn't understand this at first, but she squinted into the glare and realized the sun had reached a point in the sky such that its rays bounced off the glass windows of the building opposite the CBI just at the right angle to reflect straight into the conference room, bathing Lisbon and the other agents on this side of the room in bright, hot light.

"Jane," she hissed. "Can you pull down the blinds?" He was standing the closest to the window, but somehow, he appeared unaffected by the heat. In the background, the leaders of the seminar droned on.

Jane glanced up at the window. "I don't know," he said dubiously. "It's kind of high up."

"Can't you do something?" she said desperately. "I'm dying here."

Jane leaned forward and tapped Richards, a former college basketball player who made Rigsby look short, on the shoulder. "Richards," Jane said in a stage whisper. He jerked his head towards the window when Richards turned to look at him. "Think you can reach that thingy for the blinds?" he said, gesturing to the place where the pull cord should have been, but seemed to be missing in this particular instance.

"Oh, yeah," Richards said gratefully. "Good idea." He reached up and tugged at the mechanism to draw the blinds, but it didn't budge. He tugged a little harder and the whole top rail came tumbling down, creating an incredible racket.

The seminar leaders paused, and everyone turned to look for the cause of the noise. "Sorry," Richards said, red-faced and clutching the shambles of the blinds in his hands. "I was trying to get the blinds."

Faces cleared, and instead of being annoyed at the interruption, everyone was inclined to treat Richards as a hero for making the attempt.

"Can you get the ones over here?" someone called from closer to the front.

"Sure," Richards said, straightening. He set the wreckage of the blinds in his hands down on the sill and moved through the room, managing to get the blinds down for every window in the room except the one Jane and Lisbon were standing in front of. When he was finished, the room broke out into applause. Richards returned to his spot near Jane and Lisbon, his ears red with pride and pleasure.

Lisbon sighed. So much for that idea.

Xxx

After another hour, she was starting to feel light-headed. The reflected sunlight still shone directly into her face. Someone from the custodial staff had brought in a few fans, but they had been mostly been placed near the doors and the flow of air hadn't quite reached her and Jane.

Lisbon fidgeted, wishing she'd thought to wear something with short sleeves. Or better yet, something sleeveless. She had plenty of shirts that buttoned to the throat that didn't have sleeves. Why hadn't she been clever enough to think of wearing one of those? And her hair! Why the hell had she worn it down today? She normally carried an elastic in her pocket in case she had to get her hair out of her face to chase down a suspect or something, but she hadn't even thought about it this morning, and now her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. She pulled at the collar of her shirt, desperate for some relief, but it was no use.

She glanced to the side, trying to gauge whether Jane would notice if she unbuttoned just the top button of her shirt. He stood directly next to her now, gazing at the front of the room in the direction of the seminar speakers with the attentiveness of a straight A student listening to a particularly fascinating lesson.

He wouldn't even notice, she reasoned with herself. It would be fine. It was only one button. He still wouldn't be able to see a damn thing. She'd still have the upper hand.

She leaned back slightly, trying to stay out of his line of sight. Surreptitiously, she worked the top button loose with one hand. She got it through the buttonhole at last and breathed a sigh of relief. Much better. She lowered her hand and resumed her customary military posture.

Jane leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'll be right back."

"What?" Lisbon asked in alarm, the heat forgotten. "Where the hell are you going? You promised to behave!"

"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "You won't even have time to miss me." He squeezed her arm and brushed past her, setting off mental alarm bells in Lisbon's brain. Oh, Lord. What was he up to now?

His statement that she wouldn't have time to miss him had been inaccurate. As soon as he disappeared out the door, her brain came up with a dozen scenarios where his activity while he was out of her line of sight ended in complete and total disaster. Dammit. She should have figured out a way to stop him from leaving. By tackling him to the ground, if necessary. Her brain unhelpfully supplied a vivid mental image of herself pinning Jane to the ground in a less than professional manner.

She shook herself out of the thought. Right, she thought to herself sarcastically. That would be real inconspicuous. She wouldn't even have room to tackle him properly, anyway. Any such attempt would have knocked down half a dozen other people like dominoes. It would be far better to pin him up against the wall. That wouldn't affect anyone else, and it would help save space in the crowded room…

Ugh. The heat had addled her brain. She raked a hand through her hair, trying to sweep it off her neck so she could think clearly again. She glanced down at herself. What the…

The top two buttons on her blouse were both unbuttoned.

Why, that sneaky little bastard, she thought, half-outraged, half-turned on. He must have unbuttoned the second one as he brushed past her a few minutes before.

She stood there, contemplating what to do. It was cooler with the second button undone, which was not an inconsiderable factor at this point. If she left it, Jane would be unbearably smug at having gotten his way. Not a desirable outcome.

So, she should button it back up. Obviously. But should she do it now, before Jane returned? Or should she make a point of buttoning it back up while he was there, so he could see she wasn't going to be manipulated into going along with his silly nonsense?

While she was still dithering over this point, Jane reappeared in the doorway, pushing a hand truck loaded with crates of water bottles. He beckoned to Rigsby and murmured something to him. Rigsby, in turn, heaved the first crate aloft and started handing out water bottles all around. Following Rigsby's lead, several other agents picked up crates and started handing the water bottles around as well. A cheer erupted from the crowd. Several people slapped Jane on the back as he threaded his way through the crowd to rejoin Lisbon by the window.

"What did you do, break open the vending machine?" Lisbon asked as he made his way back to her side.

"Bribed the delivery guy. Here you go." He handed her an ice cold water bottle, dripping with condensation and resumed his place by the window.

"Thank you," Lisbon said gratefully, forgetting about the button for a moment. The man had brought her something cool to drink. And boosted morale for everyone in the room. She twisted the cap off and drained half the bottle in one go. She had to admit, sometimes Jane's methods of problem solving weren't half bad.

"Open your hand," Jane whispered to her.

"Why?" she whispered back. Despite her gratitude, suspicion of Jane's motives was hardwired into her at this point.

"Just give me your hand, woman," Jane growled into her ear.

Lisbon tentatively held out her hand. Jane took it in his and folded her fingers over a small, soft object, his own fingers pressing against hers just a shade too long. Lisbon looked down at their clasped hands, then twisted her wrist so she could see what he'd given her. She opened her palm and saw he'd pressed a black hair tie into her hand. She raised her face to his, eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you."

He squeezed her wrist. "You're very welcome."

"Hold this, would you?" she said, handing him her water bottle. She gathered her hair up off her neck and twisted into a sloppy bun. She secured it with the hair tie and let out a sigh of relief. She glanced down at herself again. Seriously?! Now three buttons were undone. From the angle of anyone facing her head on, her bra was still respectably covered, but looking down at herself—and from Jane's vantage point hovering at her shoulder—the edge of the pink lace was clearly visible.

Her eyes flew to Jane, who pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling, the picture of innocence.

Her eyes narrowed. He must have undone the third one when he brushed past her as he handed her the water bottle, she realized.

She snatched the offending water bottle back from him, contemplating clobbering him over the head with it.

But—she did feel much better, with her hair off her neck, the water bottle to cool her, and even, she admitted to herself grudgingly, with the three buttons unbuttoned, letting the heat from her chest escape into the sticky air around them instead of staying trapped against her skin under a layer of cloth.

Also, she rationalized, should she give Jane the satisfaction of realizing he was getting to her with whatever bizarre game he was playing here? Wouldn't it be better to ignore his interference with her wardrobe and just hold out until this damn seminar was over? Then she would have gotten what she needed out of the deal and could murder him quietly if she needed to. She should have just killed him and disposed of his body before this stupid seminar began, she thought darkly. Even Hightower wouldn't have expected Jane to show up if he was actually dead.

She should never have allowed herself to get suckered into this ridiculous deal in the first place, she thought furiously. Engaging in any kind of bargain with Patrick Jane was a deal with the devil at best.

She still hadn't gotten a straight answer out of him about why he'd asked for this particular, er, incentive, in the first place. He'd told her the answer was obvious, and implied she was just being stubborn by refusing to acknowledge it.

If he were a normal man, the obvious conclusion would be that he had a particular interest in not only the pink bra itself, but also in what was underneath it. But this was Jane they were talking about here. He didn't think of her that way. She was a convenient foil to his unorthodox methods, smoothing the waters so he could have free rein to do what he pleased in the frame of the bureaucratic machine in which they operated, nothing more.

That was unfair, she acknowledged to herself. She was his friend. She knew he cared for her. It was just the concept of him thinking of her as a flesh and blood woman behind the gun and badge that was difficult to comprehend. Of course, it wasn't like he never acknowledged her as a woman at all, she reminded herself. Jane had always been chivalrous, holding doors for her and placing his hand at the small of her back as they walked places together. He'd never treated her as one of the guys, as so many of her male colleagues did. He'd always been particularly attentive towards her. Downright protective, in fact. Usually in some way that irritated her beyond measure, but still. And he did like to tease her. Even flirt with her sometimes. Okay, she amended, a lot of the time. And he'd never exactly made it a secret that he preferred her company to that of anyone else. Which she had to admit she found flattering despite her constant rationalizations to herself that this wasn't so much an active preference on Jane's part but rather a reflection of the fact that she was possibly the only person on the planet who could tolerate his presence for any length of time without wanting to throw him off the side of a building. And even she wasn't entirely immune to that particular desire, though by some miracle she'd managed to restrain the impulse so far.

Her mind flitted to that bare ring finger again. Maybe the removal of the ring meant he really was ready to move on, she thought hopefully. But then, the question still stood—why this? Why now? Why hadn't he just talked to her? Or pinned _her_ against the wall?

Okay, so that latter method probably wouldn't have ended well for him, she acknowledged. If she hadn't seen it coming, she might have kneed him in the groin. Admittedly, she didn't have the best track record with men, but even she recognized that such a beginning would hardly have been an auspicious start to any kind of romantic interlude.

But was that what Jane was after? Was he ready to get back in the game, so to speak, but preferred to start somewhere comfortable, somewhere familiar, before spreading his wings and flying off to some other port? She grimaced at her own mixed metaphor. That didn't sound like Jane, she decided. If anything, if he wanted to have a trial run of sorts, he was the type to find an anonymous pair of arms for the job. Lord knew he wouldn't have any trouble finding anyone willing, if he was willing to expend the slightest bit of effort. Or, you know, if he simply didn't turn down one of the numerous women who came on to him on a regular basis.

Besides, she thought, returning to the thought of Jane engineering a one night stand with her, she knew Jane wouldn't do that to her. Despite his many flaws, he would never hurt her that way. He would know they wouldn't be able to return to the status quo, not after something like that.

So what did that mean? That he wanted to start something with her? Something long term? If that was true, why the hell had he chosen this, of all things, as his method of declaration? It was hardly the most romantic thing in the world, she thought, puzzled. Jane was definitely a romantic. She would have thought—well, if he were going to declare himself, that it would be through some grand, showy gesture. Possibly with fireworks or dozens of roses. Or at least through a heartfelt conversation late at night in her office or on the doorstep of her apartment or something.

Maybe, she thought, he really was just messing with her. Her heart sank. This was a little outside his usual scope of screwing with someone, especially her, but Jane's sense of humor was often inscrutable, to say the least. Maybe he was just extra bored and he was trying out a new method of entertainment. She scowled. If that was true, he would live to regret it.

She chanced a glance at him.

Jane stood perfectly still, his mouth softly parted and breathing shallow breaths, his gaze riveted on the v of her blouse.

Lisbon, her face already flushed from the heat, turned an even darker shade of rose. She hastily raised the water bottle to her lips to cover her confusion and took a long swallow of the cool liquid.

Okay, so he wasn't messing with her.

Maybe it was time to take this battle into the enemy camp, she thought suddenly. Regardless of his motives, Jane undoubtedly expected that she would be flustered by the situation and would stay on the defensive. If she really wanted to regain the upper hand here, she should go on the offensive.

She screwed the lid back onto the water bottle and slowly, carefully, pressed the water bottle against her neck. The cool, wet bottle felt amazing on her overheated skin, and for a second, she forgot all about Jane. She tilted her head to the other side and pressed the bottle to the other side of her neck, biting her lip to suppress the sigh of pleasure threatening to escape her lips. A drop of condensation from the bottle dripped onto her chest and ran down between her breasts in a long, cool rivulet, soaking the little pink bow in the middle of the bra.

A little hiss of breath escaped Jane's lips, which parted further as he leaned forward, craning his neck to follow the course of the rivulet and observe the fate of the pink bow.

He raised his gaze to meet hers, the irises of his green-blue eyes nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils. "What are you doing to me, woman?" he half-whispered, half-groaned.

"Me?!" she hissed back. "This was your stupid idea in the first place."

"And this is your plan for revenge?" She wouldn't have thought it possible, but his eyes darkened further at that.

She shook her head, incredulous. "You're a disturbed man, you know that?"

"Okay, I admit, my plan got a little out of hand," Jane admitted in a low voice. "But I'm a man of my word—" She snorted at this. Jane ignored her and continued, "—and I'm not going to get through the rest of this training if you keep up this campaign of torture. Can we call a truce?"

"Fine," she conceded, knowing she was the one who wouldn't make it through the rest of the training if Jane kept looking at her like that. "Truce."

"Great." Jane fixed his gaze back on the v of her blouse. "Truce."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Cut that out."

"How else am I supposed to get through the rest of this tedious blather?" Jane whispered back.

"I don't know, by actually listening?" Lisbon said, exasperated.

"That's an absurd idea," Jane said, leaning forward again to get a better look.

She smacked him on the arm. "You're violating the terms of the truce, Jane."

"Really? I thought it was a key provision."

"What if someone sees you?"

"Nobody is paying attention to us," he pointed out. "Everyone else is halfway to a coma by now. They're focused on their own survival."

Lisbon glanced around at their nearest neighbors and realized this was true. Everyone else was staring vaguely in the direction of the seminar leaders, jaws slack and eyes glazed. It was like the entirety of the CBI had responded to a casting call for extras in 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers.'

"Fine," she whispered. "But after this is over, there's going to be a reckoning, you hear me?"

"Yes, my dear," Jane said, happily resuming his observation post. "Whatever you say."

Xxx

The following hour was torture, pure and simple.

Jane was better behaved during this period than she'd ever known him to be in the entirety of their acquaintance. That was the problem. He was driving her crazy with his longing looks and meaningful glances. Not to mention all the times he 'accidentally on purpose' brushed against her the rest of the afternoon. Lisbon was starting to think the only way she was going to make it out of that room would be if someone pulled the fire alarm due to her spontaneously combusting in the corner.

The rest of the group had broken free of their torpor and had resumed their grumbling about the meeting conditions. Lisbon started to grow concerned that they might soon have a riot on their hands even without Jane filling his usual role as instigator.

They made it until half an hour before the seminar was scheduled to end. At that point, Platt keeled over, falling out of his chair and landing with a thud on the floor in the middle of the aisle between the chairs, apparently suffering from heatstroke.

The room broke out into pandemonium. The seminar leaders gaped like fish, horrified, at the body lying prone on the floor. The agents started shouting angrily at the group of managers standing near the front, gesturing wildly at their fallen comrade.

Van Pelt, who had trained as a medic before joining the CBI, was the only one who kept her head. She snapped into action. She grabbed Rigsby's jacket from the back of her chair, which he'd discarded within fifteen minutes of the beginning of the seminar, and folded it as a pillow that she used to cushion Platt's head. She ordered the agents nearest her to call the paramedics, to hand over any remaining water bottles that could be used to cool Platt down, and to fetch ice for the same purpose. She directed the fans to be placed around Platt so he could benefit from the circulation of as much as fresh air as possible, and then she ordered everyone to leave the room, as the presence of so many bodies in the small space was not conducive to cooling the place down.

The group of managers and monitors from the governor's office conducted a hurried conference, and then one of them stepped forward and announced that everyone should leave and that under the circumstances, everyone in attendance would receive full credit for completing the seminar.

The grumbling stopped then and everyone fled the scene at speed. Lisbon stopped to ask Van Pelt if there was anything she could do to help, then went downstairs to help the paramedics navigate security and find their way to the conference room. She told Cho and Rigsby to go on home as she passed them in the hall, but she lost track of Jane in the shuffle.

By the time she returned upstairs with the paramedics in tow, Platt had revived under Van Pelt's expert care and was sitting up, looking clammy but otherwise mostly looking embarrassed. The paramedics treated him but after conferring briefly with one another, determined that a trip to the hospital wasn't necessary. Van Pelt volunteered to drive him home, an offer Platt accepted gratefully. Lisbon complimented Van Pelt on her calm under pressure while the paramedics gave strict instructions to Platt. Van Pelt flushed at the praise, pleased.

"You heading home, boss?" Van Pelt asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she prepared to leave and the paramedics helped Platt to the elevator.

"In a few minutes," Lisbon said. "I've got to stop by my office first."

"'Kay," Van Pelt said, heading towards the elevator herself. "Night."

Lisbon echoed the sentiment, then turned towards her office.

She passed Jane in the kitchen on the way back to her desk, drinking a cup of tea. She flushed when she saw him, but only acknowledged him with a jerk of her head as she passed by.

Jane set his tea down and followed her into her office. "Boy, talk about a mood killer," he said, shaking his head as the door swung closed behind him. "Poor Platt."

"He'll be all right," Lisbon said.

"Good thing Van Pelt was there."

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed. "She did good."

"So." Jane inched closer to her. "Does this mean the truce is over?"

"Maybe," Lisbon said archly. "That depends."

"On what?" Jane continued his advance. "Because if it's still in place, I have a few ideas about how to violate the terms."

She placed a hand on his chest, halting his advance. "Stop right there," she ordered. "You owe me a reckoning, remember?"

"I remember," Jane said, leaning into her hand. "I'm looking forward to it."

She increased the pressure of her hand, forcing him backwards until his back crashed into her office door, rattling the blinds ominously. "Why," she said, clearly and succinctly. "Are you doing this to me?"

He watched her with hooded eyes. "Doing what, exactly?"

"This whole bit with the pink lace," Lisbon said. "Why this? Why now?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You haven't figured that out by now?"

She pressed closer to him. "Indulge me."

He swallowed hard. "I, ah, was planting a seed," he confessed.

Her brow crinkled in confusion. "Planting a seed?"

"We-ell, I haven't exactly placed myself in the ideal position to declare myself as a potential romantic partner," Jane hedged. "After we got Red John, you seemed determined to treat me the same as ever, as your crime-solving buddy and occasional nuisance."

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "Occasional?"

"I realized that regardless of the latent but obvious attraction between the two of us, you'd trained yourself to consider me as unavailable," he went on. "You trained yourself to believe that I, in turn, harbored no feelings of sexual attraction towards you. Which," he said, shaking his head, "Couldn't have been further from the truth."

"Why the hell didn't you just say something, then?" Lisbon said, exasperated.

"I thought if I just asked you on a date out of the blue, you might have me committed to a mental hospital," he admitted. "Or be so suspicious that even if I persuaded you to accept my invitation, you'd spend the entire evening looking for scary clowns preparing to jump out at you from the woodwork."

"Clowns, Jane?" she said skeptically. "Really?"

"You get my point," he said hastily. "In any case, you see my dilemma."

She let him go and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your dilemma that you created in your mind based on misguided assumptions because you were too cowardly to actually talk to me?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "That one."

"So instead, you needed to plant a seed."

"Yes, so you would start to realize the depth of my abiding passion for you. When you asked me about the seminar, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to plant that seed."

"By asking me to wear a pink lace bra?" she double checked. "That was the seed?"

"That's right."

Impossible man. "You didn't think about maybe planting a seed that was less inappropriate?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd actually _agree_ to it. Really, Lisbon, it was very unfeminist of you to go along with the idea," he admonished her.

"Unfeminist of _me_?" she said, indignant.

"Yes. I'm surprised you didn't punch me in the nose, actually. Instead, all you did was throw me out on my ear. I didn't expect you to let me off so lightly."

"If you thought I was going to punch you in the nose, why did you ask for it in the first place?" Lisbon demanded.

"Because after you punched me and stormed off in righteous indignation, I knew it would drive you crazy, trying to figure out why I asked for such a thing in the first place," he explained. "You could hardly fail to come to the obvious conclusion. I mean, why else would a man ask a woman for something like that?"

"Why else, indeed," she muttered.

"So then," he continued, "you'd know that I was attracted to you, and you'd work yourself into a state, wondering why I asked for that, of all things, and if I was ever going to follow it up with another, perhaps more romantic request. And then, when you were nice and riled up over the whole thing, then I could make my move and it wouldn't be such a surprise to you. In fact, you'd pretty much be expecting it."

"This is your reasoning?" Lisbon said incredulously. "This is what makes sense inside your twisted mind?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? It was far more effective than I thought it would be, actually. I didn't anticipate the seed transforming into a rainforest quite so quickly," he said, shaking his head.

She smacked him on the chest. "You're an idiot."

"Hey," he said, wounded. "I'll have you know a lot of careful planning went into the nurturing of that little seed. I deserve a little credit for that, don't you think?"

"Credit for what?" she said suspiciously. "Making inappropriate demands?"

He cleared his throat. "Let's just call it—promoting the conditions that would allow the seed to flourish."

"Promoting the conditions—" she stopped as realization struck her. "Oh, God. The air conditioner. You somehow managed to break the air conditioner."

"It wasn't easy, let me tell you," Jane said with a shake of his head. "I haven't had to implement a plan so finely tuned and nuanced in—" he stopped. "Well, possibly ever," he said, sounding bemused. "But you gave me no choice."

"I gave you no choice?" she said, incredulous. "You gave Platt heatstroke!"

"I do feel a little bad about that," Jane acknowledged. "But it was a necessary evil. It was obvious what you were planning to do. You gave in entirely too easily. I had to implement certain countermeasures."

"Countermeasures, plural?" she repeated.

"Well, first I had to delay you from getting to the conference room too early," he explained. "I needed you to be in a very specific spot for the plan to work properly, and if you'd gotten a seat towards the front of the room, it might have ruined everything."

"You broke the blinds," she realized with dawning understanding. "You went in there last night and sabotaged the whole damn room."

"Yes," he agreed.

Her eyes narrowed. "And you stole my lunch so I'd be forced to go out to get something to eat, and would therefore be delayed getting back in by the logjam you engineered at security." She looked at him, exasperated. "Did you spill coffee on Rigsby's forms, too?"

"Is it my fault Rigsby is so clumsy?" he said with an exaggerated air of innocence.

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Wow, you really covered all your bases, didn't you?"

He inched forward, putting his hands on her waist. "I'm actually interested in exploring a few more bases, actually."

She rolled her eyes. "And now you're coming at me with cheesy lines. I swear to God, Jane, if I hear a single word from you about home plate, I'll kick your ass." But she didn't move away.

Jane moved closer. "If I promise to leave the baseball metaphors to you, will you let me kiss you now?"

Her breath hitched in her throat and her pulse skyrocketed to the stratosphere. "Name one good reason why I should let you kiss me instead of kicking your ass for coming up with this whole convoluted scheme in the first place," she challenged him, trying without success to get her galloping heart back under control.

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "There is the fact that I'm madly in love with you. That's a good reason, isn't it?"

It was possible her heart was going to gallop right out of her chest at this point. "I suppose that's acceptable," she managed. "As long as you don't do anything like this again."

"No promises," he said, and kissed her.

"You're not going to get away with this," she said weakly when they finally broke apart several moments later. Her position was not strengthened by the fact that she had him pressed up against the blinds again. Or the fact that she'd been clutching the lapels of his jacket with unseemly desperation in order to keep him close. She shifted her grip on his lapels, forcing a note of her usual sternness back into her voice. "You're going to pay for making me spend the whole afternoon in that miserably hot room with a hundred other people in it. And," she added, "you're going to make it up to Platt, too."

Jane considered for a moment, his eyes on her mouth. "I'll get Platt tickets to Discovery Kingdom for him and his family," he said finally. "He'll be happy with that—his daughters will be excited about the dolphin show. They can go on a cool day. Is that satisfactory recompense for giving him heatstroke, in your opinion?"

"That's fine," Lisbon conceded, inwardly wondering at the weights and measures used in Jane's mind when he felt he needed to balance the scale of justice.

"As for the rest…" He traced a finger down the side of her neck. "I'm entirely at your disposal."

Lisbon, who was feeling overheated again, had only one thing on her mind at this point. "I want ice cream," she announced. "And you don't get to have any."

"Fair enough," Jane said quickly. He kissed her again, then opened the door and gestured for her to precede him out of it. "After you, my dear."

Xxx

Three hours later, Lisbon sat perched on Jane's lap in nothing but his shirt and a pair of underwear, finishing off the last of the maple toffee ice cream. "Mm," she hummed in satisfaction. "This is really good." One of Jane's few points of reliability was that he could always be counted upon to find good ice cream.

"Are you really not going to let me have any of that?" Jane said plaintively, looking up from his half-reclined position against the headboard with half-lidded eyes.

She licked the spoon and gave a little wiggle of pleasure. "Nope."

"At least stop wriggling around like that," he said, his gaze darkening. "You're compounding the torture."

"Serves you right," she said, unrepentant. "Besides, I didn't hear you complaining about that twenty minutes ago."

"No," he agreed. "It was more like begging for mercy."

"Wimp," she said, taking the last bite of the ice cream and leaning over him to set the empty container on the bedside table.

He leaned up and captured her mouth for another kiss, stealing the last taste of ice cream from her lips.

"Thief," she sighed, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him back.

"You know," he said, toying with the button on the shirt she was wearing. "I'm really looking forward to next year's rules of evidence seminar. The experience was far more scintillating than I anticipated."

"Well, I'm not resorting to bribery again," she said firmly. "That was a one-time deal only."

"I was thinking more along the lines of me bribing you," Jane said, flicking open the button holding the shirt closed across her breasts. "I'm sure I could rustle up a pair of pink boxers, if I put my mind to it." He moved on to the next button. "Or," he said, popping open the last button and lowering his mouth to her breast. "I'm sure we could come up with some other mutually agreeable arrangement."

Lisbon's breath came a little faster. "I might be prepared to consider your terms," she said archly, winding her fingers through his curls so she could hold him closer. "But I warn you—I'm going to drive a hard bargain."

He smiled into her chest. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Five minutes later, a pink paper frog fell from the night stand onto the floor, unnoticed by either of the bed's occupants.


End file.
